


The Waiting

by transangelic



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daydreaming, Freeform, M/M, POV Martin Blackwood, Pining, Slow Burn, im not british but I TRiED, set after s1 jon doesnt get all paranoid this time basically, set after season 1, will be adding more chapters!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transangelic/pseuds/transangelic
Summary: After the Prentiss incident, there had been a shift. Well, a lot of things had changed. Everyone was more on-edge than before, especially Jon. But, that didn’t mean Martin’s feelings towards him had changed. He had no idea how these thoughts had stayed so persistent throughout everything...In Summary, Jon and Martin start going to lunch together during the week, and slowly start to fall in love with each one.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	The Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> hi ive been reading fanfiction for 4 years and quarantine made me finally get around to writing some! constructive criticism is appreciated :)   
> heres the playlist i listened to while writing: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6Gg84zc0J1ROocwIoxPnvY?si=G7mmfIBESRy3pYPOsBeA0A   
> hope you enjoy! there will definitely be more chapters on the way...

After the Prentiss incident, there had been a shift. Well, a lot of things had changed. Everyone was more on-edge than before, especially Jon. But, that didn’t mean Martin’s feelings towards him had changed. He had no idea how these thoughts had stayed so persistent throughout everything, plus the constant scrutiny and pointed looks from Sasha and Tim. Tim especially, as he was always witness to some of the more cruel moments where Martin would walk out of Jon’s small office red-faced and tearing up. Despite all of this, there was something about Jon, something deeper, that he wanted to find. He had seen some glimpse of it in their “heart to heart” conversation down in the tunnels, with the whole ghost thing. Martin wanted to know Jon, wanted to be the one who knows how to love him. He didn’t really know _exactly_ what that meant, but he knew he wanted it. Maybe just to have early mornings with him, waking up with Jon’s warm body wrapped around him, Jon’s small frame drowned out in one of Martin’s cream-colored sweaters. Or late nights, coming home from the archives on the tube, leaning on each other, knowing they were going Home after a long day. Being able to touch Jon without questioning, running his hand through his dark mess of hair, maybe even braiding it. He really wasn’t picky. Well. He was, but not with Jon. Slowly after he was hired, Jon had become the subject of Martin’s daydreams, and occasionally his real dreams, usually unprompted, but always just...there. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had dozed off in the archives or at home thinking of if things were different between them. Some included Jon coming into the safe room late at night and confessing, some were more... _heated_ , like Jon reprimanding him for some especially rubbish work and suddenly grabbing him by his sweater collar, and kissing him, hard. The details aren’t important. That didn’t mean Martin _liked_ when Jon yelled at him. It was actually the worst, but at some point, when something has happened to you a lot of times, you get used to it. More recently, Martin had discovered a special skill of just spacing out during these lectures, though they still did hurt him a bit. It _was_ still Jon yelling at him, after all.   
Nonetheless, something had shifted. They had Shared Trauma or what-ever now, and it brought them closer together. Martin asked for more and Jon gave it to him. In particular, they started going for lunch together. Jon had surprisingly been the first to ask. He stopped Martin in the break room quite suddenly, making Martin almost drop the milk carton he held in his hand.   
“Martin.” he had said, looking straight into his eyes, like what he was going to say wasn’t something as simple and straightforward as it was. Though, for them, it really wasn’t. The only time he had seen Jon outside of work was a run-in on the tube. Incidentally, one of Jon’s friends lived in the same direction as Martin’s flat. This had evoked some sort of sick jealousy in the pit of Martin’s stomach, which he did his best to tamp down quickly. The whole interaction had been awkward, a silent, jostling ride with both of them standing uncomfortably in the silence, trying their best not to fall onto one another due to the crowdedness of the rush hour train.  
“Martin,” he repeated. “Would you like to go to lunch with me?”. Martin knew he had some sort of stupid look of surprise and poorly masked excitement on his face while he processed what Jon had asked. He turned his head to the steaming cup of tea in front of him, then back to Jon, who was looking at him with a signature deadpan on his face. Jon started to back away, just as Martin stuttered out “Y-Yes!” Realizing he had sounded a bit too eager, he tried to calm himself and once again responded, “I Mean. Sure! Where would you like to go?” Jon looked at him with something like enthusiasm, his eyes lighting up slightly at the corners. Martin instinctively smiled back. “I was thinking the diner a few blocks away. It’s a bit dodgy, but they have good tea.” Martin felt something twist in his stomach at that. Did Jon not like his tea? He quickly realized he was being stupid and wasn’t responding, so he quickly nodded his head. “Right. Ok.” Jon said as he maneuvered himself out of their small, harshly lit break room. Martin realized quickly that Jon had meant for him to follow, and briskly grabbed his coat and caught up to him in the institute hallways. He walked up besides Jon and gestured vaguely in front of him, to say “You lead the way!”. As they walked out the large, prestigious institute doors, Martin felt a wave of giddyness overwhelm him and had to cover his involuntarily wide smile with a cough. God, was he whipped. Sasha really was right. He tried not to think about it. Jon was _actually_ being nice to him for once, and he wasn’t going to ruin that.   
This day has been an especially nice one. Spring was on the horizon and clouds floated dreamily across the bright blue sky. Jon and him walked quietly to their destination, a small diner with a fading sign. He wondered if Jon went here often. As it was a bit past lunch due to the work ethic of one specific man, they were seated quickly by a nice redhead lady dressed in a yellow-checkered dress and stained white apron. They looked at the dingy menus they were given, and promptly ordered. As they politely conversed about nothing, Martin noticed something. There was something _new_ , something special about the way Jon looked at him. Firstly, there was a surprising lack of the usual reproach and distaste he was used to seeing. A stubborn sort of love seemed to be present in his eyes which Martin had noticed, as he replayed the first lunch in his head, which he did, frequently. They had been discussing the quality of their food, something mundane and bland. While Martin was going on about how the tea he makes was much, much better than the diner’s, Jon looked up from his meal and looked, really looked at Martin. The sunlight filtering in from the adjacent window glinted in his worn brown eyes, making Martin's heart warm. Jon had looked at him with some sort of stubborn smirk, a lovely thing he rarely saw in what was usually an uptight, standoffish man. Moments like this were rare, where everything that was Watching, everything that strikes fear in either man, was gone, forgotten for a moment.   
★☆★★☆★

These lunches continued throughout the spring. During each one, Martin would occasionally learn something new about Jon. Sometimes they were small, mundane things like how he preferred baths over showers, or how he had an affinity for punk music that had begun in Uni. Occasionally though, they were a lot more interesting, like how his mother died when he was young, and he had been raised by his grandmother. He tried showing new parts of himself to Jon in return, but with Jon, as the weeks passed, he felt that it wasn’t a deliberate choice anymore. He actually _wanted_ to share things with Jon, which was new. Not to say that every lunch was a session of emotionally charged conversations, but they were drastically different from what they were having before. Sasha and Tim would sometimes join as well. With Tim, they would hear stories of his latest mission for classified files at the hospital or the police station, and Jon would blush and silently eat his food, trying to look like he wasn’t paying attention, that he didn’t approve, but Martin could tell that he enjoyed it at least a little bit. Apparently, Jon and Tim had been coworkers for a while. With Sasha, things were quieter, but still enjoyable. But, most days it was just him and Jon. These days made him wish he had known Jon in a different context. That he had met him in some rundown coffee shop, falling in love with the way his hair draped over his hunched shoulders, the way he always drank his coffee black, or maybe meeting him at university. He always pictured a much more fashionable Jon standing in the corner at some hazy dorm party, beckoning him to come near him, absolutely sloshed. If things were normal, maybe everything would be easier. What would it be like to live normally, to not know the things he did? There was so much going on all the time, even if anything actually happened between the two, no doubt it would be something complicated and scary, though he still wanted it. They would get through it together, right? He hoped they would. Maybe everything would be okay. Though, it was very hard to be optimistic when you are reminded of the past constantly. He still found the occasional worm carcass in the depths of the archives, and sometimes he could still smell the rotted, putrid smell he lived in for weeks. God, sometimes even looking at Jon gutted him. He was covered in scars, some still healing or reopened. They had marked him everywhere- visible now were the slightly raised pink circles defacing his forehead and neck, and he could see them trailing down his chest in the rare chance Jon wasn’t fully buttoned up. He could tell Jon disliked them. Looking at him sometimes made him ache, he so desperately wanted to show Jon that he is, in fact, loved. To kiss a path down the scars adorning him, show him how beautiful he really is. His tendency to daydream at work only got worse with these lunches. Sasha constantly caught him blushing in the direction of Jon’s office, and had many a late night text conversation with Tim, who had always questioned his feelings towards Jon. Tim even found a way to feel make Martin equally as embarrassed over text as he would have in person, with his slews of heart emojis and questions like “youre gay? and for that?? :0”.   
He was well aware at this point that it was stupid, but he couldn’t help the rush he felt whenever Jon called him into his office or told him about a new place they should eat at. That was another thing, Jon’s office. Before Prentiss, Martin only found himself in Jon’s office to ask him if he wanted a cuppa, or to get yelled at for some shoddy work. It was a cramped space, the walls were completely lined with towering old wood shelves that were crammed with unfiled statements, and Jon’s mug-stained desk was absolutely covered with files, stacked and teetering over the edge of the desk. He had no idea how Jon could fall asleep on it, but he did frequently. Tim had even run a contest once to see how many files he could place carefully on Jon’s head without waking him up. If he remembers correctly, the max was 12. When Tim was close to 13, Jon had started to stir awake, and Tim had booked it into the main room so fast he almost tripped over a trash can. Martin was still as doting as before with Jon, probably even more now, but there was less yelling now, which was definitely an accomplishment.   
It was back to what it had been in the very early days, when Martin was smitten with no good reason not to be. Jon didn’t know him yet, but Martin craved to meet him, enamored with the way he carried himself, the way he cursed under his breath at just about anything, much to Elias’s rules against swearing. Now, Martin was welcome, and occasionally worked the best he could in the tiny perimeter, or more often ended up just sitting in the office occasionally. It was nice not to be alone, it was what he craved even, especially after weeks of isolation. He sensed that Jon felt this too, he had been quarantined as well, hadn’t he? They would work in silence, or Jon would read a statement while Martin sat politely on the worn armchair they had found in a nearby charity shop, listening not to the words but to the deep, sometimes frantic but calming sound of Jon’s voice. He loved Jon’s voice, the way it changed all the time, how he had a specific Archivist voice and a regular one, how his primarily mean chiding had turned more joking, a softer lilt to his words when he spoke. It was getting harder to ignore, the amount of things he loved about Jon. He originally thought he knew what love was, _real_ love. This was different from anything he had ever felt before, the ache felt sharper, the daydreams were deeper, and it was getting harder to hide.


End file.
